


Crotalus

by lrceleste



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Adoribull - Freeform, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Fluff, M/M, Naga!Dorian, Pre-Dragon Age: Inquisition, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-27
Updated: 2016-02-07
Packaged: 2018-05-16 17:05:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 13,075
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5833597
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lrceleste/pseuds/lrceleste
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bull and the Chargers take on a regular mission, just putting the end to a pest problem, with a rather large pest. </p><p>But nothing's ever as simple as it looks.</p><p>((updates will be posted every other day at roughly 5pm GMT, life permitting. This has changed due to the Adoribull kink meme fill week.))</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'm probably(definitely) going to give this a better name later, but for now, the beginning of some naga!Dorian.

All things considered it was an easy job, Bull mused as they trekked through the trees. Find the creature that was terrorising the livestock, kill it. The only thing that should have made the job difficult would be if the creature turned out to be a dragon or some shit. Hell, it would make it interesting though, and let them bump up their pay.

No, it should have been easy, as Grim and Dalish tracked up ahead; even Bull with his one eye could tell what they were looking for was messy and no bigger than a wyvern. Probably one in all honesty, the constant trail most likely the sheep it had kidnapped a few nights before, dragging along the ground, nobody had been to these parts of the woods to disturb it. He honestly needn’t have brought all of the chargers, but the boys were itching for a good fight.

The reality, of course, was not quite so simple.

They stopped before the mouth of a cave, bones littered outside, and hell, if this wasn’t a lair he didn’t know what else would qualify. But then something was off.

Krem knew, he would have stepped straight in, maul at the ready, but instead he paused beside the Bull, his voice dropped low as he asked, “Chief, what’s the problem?”

“There’s light coming from inside the cave, flickering, probably torch light.” He could also see the way Dalish tensed slightly, no matter how much they joked; it was always useful having a mage. “Magic?”

She nodded. “I’m pretty certain, must be a mage inside.”

“Reckon someone beat us to it?” Stitches 

“Only one way to find out. Krem, Dalish, Skinner, come with me. Stitches, Grim, Rocky, you guys wait here; you hear screaming, you come in, otherwise keep watch, we don’t know if the things actually still here.” Bull answered as he stepped forward into the cave, carefully removing his great axe.

These three knew how to move silently, Krem had spent enough time in the chargers to understand to importance of a light foot, Dalish had hunted every now and again back with her clan and Skinner could sneak up even on him. So they managed to make it far enough into the cave that the source of light was only around the corner, and they hadn’t been spotted by the mage. Bull moved cautiously, attempting to get a better look without being spotted himself, but the shadow he saw cast against the wall was more than enough of an indicator that the creature was still very much present.

He turned slowly back to Krem mouthing _snake._

In return he received a confused look and _Snake?! All of this is over a snake._

 _It’s a fucking big one._ He answered spreading his arms for effect

A short pause, before Dalish mouthed, _How big?_

_Could eat you and skinner most likely._

_At the same time?_ Krem asked, and Bull rolled his eyes a little before nodding. Krem gripped his maul, readying himself as he mouthed, _I fucking hate snakes._

_All in on three then, get this thing quickly._

He held up his fingers, counting down, watching Krem get more and more antsy. Tevinter didn’t do well for cultivating a fear of snakes, he’d discovered when they’d had a run in with a hydra a couple years back.

Still, on one his lieutenant jumped around the corner with him. And it was then the light revealed something the shadows hadn’t, evidently the mage they were expecting, and damn getting humans involved always made the task more difficult. Especially when they were buried under what was obviously over a hundred pounds worth of snake, everything below their naked chest lost to the writhing scales.

“Shit.” He muttered, and that gathered the mages attention, their eyes immediately flying open; horror in their features, and maybe anger too.

They locked eyes for a moment, and damn, that man was pretty, but it meant nothing right now, this was likely going to be a case of saving this guy, or letting the snake have him, and Bull needed to know where his allegiances lay, fast.

The answer became quickly obvious when the man pushed himself up, and the snake moved, curling away to reveal the mages hips, where caramel skin became black scales. When the creature was at its full height, mage or snake, or whatever the fuck it was, it opened its lips, hissing around the mouthful of razor sharp teeth, and tongue almost human but for the slit.

“Chief?” Krem asked, voice rising in borderline hysterics, and Bull turned to look, because god damn, Dalish wasn’t looking so peaky anymore either. This was something they’d never encountered before, and sure, usually he’d go in all ready for the fight. But not now, not with this _thing_ coiling to strike, tail rattling, screaming _venom._

“Fall back!”

Bull felt the sting after only a blur of movement. Shit this thing was fast. He could hear Krem’s voice, muffled and distant, but he couldn’t respond, his body already falling to the ground.

-

When Bull started to come to he tried to take in his surroundings before he opened his eyes, keeping his breath low and even and hoping he hadn’t been spotted. A fire was warm against his cheek and shoulder, and the floor beneath was rough stone. Shit, still in the cave then. He could hear a rattling and scraping that were disturbing on so many levels he didn’t care to consider it for too long, he knew it was something smooth against the stone and he didn’t want to think about scales and why the fuck he was still breathing.

Cracking his eyes open a slight amount it was easy to find his captor. The creature was curled up with its back to him, a foolish decision, its black tail curled to make a makeshift bed for its human part, occasionally it shifted, rearranging itself, and Bull wished he hadn’t been right. This shit wasn’t close enough to a dragon to be fun, but enough to be a big damned problem. His axe lay feet from the creature, close enough for the thing to reach out and grasp it should it desire it.

Slowly Bull sat straight; keeping his breathing even, the thing shifted slightly but appeared to remain unaware of Bull’s movement. Dive and swing, get a small hit into the thing before it could react, then go in for the second killing blow.

He jumped for his axe, gripping the shaft as the thing began to shift; he raised the axe high, preparing to bring it down hard enough to at least make the beast pause. Then the thing opened its eyes groggily, dazed from sleep it took it a moment to assess the situation and react, and Bull should have used that moment, should have brought the axe down hard and ended it then, but Krem always said he was going soft in more ways than one.

The thing looked petrified, instead of lunging for Bull or using some of the magic he was sure it possessed, it jumped backwards against the wall of the cave, breathing fast and heavy as its eyes darted to the entrance.

At the very least he should have done it then, should have brought down the axe, taken the body to the village, asked why his boys had abandoned him. But he was looking down at the creature before him, curling its tail closer to itself, eyes sparkling with unshed tears. Had it been human he’d have said it was a guy in his late 20’s, curling into the foetal position in the corner. It was a strange thing to notice at a time like this, but despite bulls initial thoughts the creature had long pointed ears pinned back against his head in fear, pierced with an unreasonable amount of gold. The Bull had never seen elf ears like that, but they certainly weren’t human.

Sensing Bull’s hesitation it spoke, and what accent had Bull expected a half snake creature to have, other than Tevinter? “Please, I’m tired of fighting.”

“Why’d you attack me then?”

“You came at me with an axe, four of you!” The thing argued, some of the fear draining away as it pulled its eyebrows together in annoyance. “You expected me to lie there and let you cut me down?!”

“So why am I not dead?”

“Oh because killing you would have solved all my problems? Those friends of yours would have been back, I should have given you a stronger dose though, I didn’t account for your size.”

“You plan on holding me prisoner then?”

“I-… No, you may leave when you wish.”

Bull slipped his axe onto his shoulder, holding it steady as he looked the thing dead in the eye. “Stay away from the villages supplies, or next time you see me I won’t hesitate to take your head off.”

It nodded, casting its eyes down, and as Bull left the cave he didn’t turn his back on the thing.

He was well into the woods when he heard footsteps, several of them. He ducked behind one of the larger trees away from the beaten path, until he heard the voices approaching quickly, familiar. He stepped out from the trees so suddenly that he earned a shrill cry from Dalish, and every one of his men ready to attack, damn if that didn’t make him a little proud.

“Chief?!” Krem asked slowly dropping his maul to the ground. “What are you doing here? You got taken by the-…”

“The snake thing. Yeah, don’t think we have to worry about it anymore, no thanks to any of you lot.”

“We’d run half way to the village before we realised you weren’t following.” Skinner admitted, “Took forever to get Krem to go back.”

“Wasn’t that bad.” Krem grumbled, bottom lip sticking out in a pout.

“How long was I gone?” Bull asked.

“Half hour tops.” Stitches answered.

“Well that’s a half hour too long. Let’s head back and get our pay.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [So yesterday I drew a naga!Dorian over on Tumblr in case you were interested.](http://vashothbutt.tumblr.com/post/138168147024/i-wrote-some-adoribull-with-nagadorian-and-was)
> 
> ~~Also I've guessed at about 7 chapters, I've already completed 4 so that will probably change depending on whether I want to take it further.~~  
>  I took it further...
> 
> Finally, thank you to everyone leaving comments and kudos, they mean the world. If I don't reply, know that I still appreciate it a lot, it's just anxiety.

Bull couldn’t sleep, he reasoned that it was because his mind was still wired, they’d gone straight from hunting, to drinking, to sex, and he hadn’t had time to calm his nerves, to write a report or read something. But he was alone again.

He gathered all of his writing equipment on the desk and sat with dry quill in hand for a while before he turned to the books he always carried from place to place, a couple in Qunlat, some in common, one Orlesian. It was one of the common ones that grabbed his attention, a thick leather book, an encyclopaedia of creatures and how to deal with them, something that always came in handy in the line of work he’d found himself in.

He flicked through the pages a while, dragons, wyverns, basilisks, hydras, nagas… Nagas. The creature on the page was serpentine, face and arms almost human, but scales covered its entire body. Close enough.

_Nagas appear part human or elf, and part serpent, the degree to which they appear serpentine can vary greatly between nagas, though it is widely accepted that each possesses a serpent’s tail, with a humanoid upper. Most nagas take a likeness to real world snakes, and often possess properties of said snakes, including variable size, venom and other abilities._

_The origin of nagas is not detailed._

_The dietary requirements of nagas are not detailed._

_It is believed that nagas greatly prefer warmer, more northern climates._

_Due to the reclusiveness and low numbers of the species there is little more information available on nagas._

Bull shut the book slightly more forcefully than it deserved, he’d wanted answers, not more damned questions. What the hell was a naga, one with a Tevinter accent to boot, doing in the middle of Ferelden?

He’d returned to his bed and lay awake for a while longer, glad that they had no immediate jobs and wouldn’t be leaving the comforts of the tavern for another week, he had time to get the sleep back.

-

When the boys had headed to the next major settlement in the morning, for supplies and maybe the offer of a job, Bull hadn’t meant to say he’d stay behind, the best thing for him was to get out of town, forget about the stupid job and the stupid snake in the woods, and get on with something new.

Instead he found himself winding down a beaten track, following one long print that Bull now knew was left by a giant snake, he wouldn’t have guessed that the day before.

The cave was just as easy to find, and he moved towards it just as cautiously as the day before. He was in the cave before he found any clarification that the naga was home, a shadow on the wall, he was ‘standing’, and a quite humming, a tune Bull didn’t recognise.

He rounded the corner, axe in hand ready for a number of ways this scenario could end. He coughed quietly to gain attention, the naga spun quickly, tail whipping around and rattling as a ball of fire materialised in his palm. Definite mage then, Dalish was right. When the naga didn’t fire, and instead narrowed its eyes, Bull slowly laid down his axe and held his hands up in a sign of peace, and the naga extinguished the flame as he glared right into the Bull’s soul.

“You?! Vishante kaffas, what are you doing back here? I thought we made a deal.”

Bull caught a glimpse of the sheep carcass in the corner, picked almost entirely clean, and wondered for a moment if he’d majorly overstepped. “Let’s call it casual curiosity, I’ve never met a naga before, and usually any creature I go after isn’t able to talk its way out of it.”

The naga spluttered. “I’m not a _‘creature’_ and I’m certainly not an ‘it’! Only as much as you, a giant grey man with horns.”

“Point taken. You a preference then?”

“Yes, ‘he’.” He stately bluntly.

“So do you have a name, ‘he’?”

“Why should I tell you what my name is, there’s nothing in it for me, as a matter of fact I have everything to lose... Besides, I don’t even know _your_ name.”

 “Well, I’m the Iron Bull. What if I offered you something?”

“Offered me- Bah! I doubt you have…” The naga paused suddenly, eyeing Bull’s bag, before asking, “Do you have books?”

“Books? Not on me, but I can get some, any preferences?”

“Anything!” He answered, eyes suddenly lighting up. “Oh anything, I’ve been reading the same three books for years and it’s been driving me insane.”

Bull smiled, “Sure thing, I’ll bring them back tomorrow.”

“Well, it appears you know exactly where to find me…”

-

He’d sifted through his own books, finding nothing he was willing to lose, after all he only carried the essentials, thankfully the general store in the village held some books, nothing too exciting, but enough, and without much explanation he headed back out into the woods. The boys would assume he was training or finding somewhere quiet to write.

He coughed to announce his presence the moment he stepped foot in the cave, and the naga rushed around the corner, eyes hopeful and hands already out, reaching for his prize. As Bull pulled his pack from his shoulder he stated, “We had a deal.”

The naga looked Bull up and down as if trying to estimate how serious he was being, when it seemed he had decided the answer was ‘very’ he let out a sigh. “Dorian, my names Dorian.”

“Well Dorian, the selection wasn’t great.” Bull sifted one of the books from his bag, handing it over to the naga, only now noticing the talons that were his nails.

“Short stories? I’ve never heard of the author, but published in 9:38, Maker that’s after… Well I’ve certainly never read them before.”

Dorian slithered into the far end of the cave where the corner offered him a small amount of concealment. By the time Bull rounded the corner Dorian was already wrapped in his own tail, the book settled perfectly against his scales.

“So,” The Bull began. “What brings a naga this far south?”

Dorian frowned at the pages, not looking up from the book for even a moment as he answered, “I’d rather you didn’t call me that, and an answer will cost you a book.”

Bull retrieved the second book from his bag, handing it over to the naga, who immediately looked up in surprise. He took the book greedily, inspecting the cover before stashing it under his stomach in the bundle of his tail.

“So what’s a… _Whatever you are_ doing this far south?”

“I had a disagreement; my living arrangements were no longer suitable.”

“Care to elaborate?”

“Got any more books?” He retorted.

“You drive a hard bargain. No, that’s all I brought with me today.”

“Hm, then perhaps tomorrow?” Dorian suggested, his eyes returning to the book.

Bull sat down on the stone floor, receiving a quick glance from Dorian and nothing more. Dorian read for five minutes before Bull pulled out his parchment and ink, causing Dorian to look up again and ask, “Do you intend to stay?”

“Got nowhere else to be.”

Dorian hummed, his lips a thin line as he returned his gaze to the book. It was a few more minutes of near silence, Bull drafting out a letter back to Par Vollen, and Dorian with his face practically pressed against the pages, before Bull heard the noise, the quiet rumbling. Dorian’s eyes shifted to him for a mere second.

“Hungry?”

Dorian didn’t answer, so Bull pressed on. “If you’re not a naga, what are you?”

“I didn’t say I wasn’t one, I simply asked you not to call me that. I’m not like those barbarians.”

“What makes you different?”

“I’m the product of generations of careful Tevinter breeding.” He scoffed, before adding. “If you knew the joke you’d understand that was hilarious.”

“You gonna tell me?”

“No, most certainly not.”

“Gonna tell me why you live in a cave if you’re the next big thing?”

“People tend to react negatively to me in case you hadn’t noticed, and I can’t have word of my presence getting out. People pay good money for something like me. Specific people are willing to pay with anything if it’ll... Some people are very determined.”

They sat in silence for a little while after that, before Bull packed away his things, and left the books with Dorian.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Slightly longer chapter today. I literally have no idea how long this thing is going to be anymore, my original plan has changed suddenly...
> 
> Also this isn't set as pre-Inquisition as I originally planned, this is now set after the breach has opened, but before joining the Inquisition.

“I brought you something.” Bull announced as he rounded the corner. He should have stopped, shouldn’t have come back that first day, but there was something that kept pulling him back. Dorian had the mannerisms of a man who should be stood before an audience, who should be receiving applause. He seemed intelligent and witty, and built for society, had he been human, Bull maintained no doubt that he would have been the life of a party, he would have touched palms with the highest echelons of Tevinter.

Instead Bull found Dorian on the floor of the cave, curled up in his tail and using it as a pillow as he held the book above him. He curved a single eyebrow. “You didn’t say you’d be returning. Oh Maker am I going to have to put up with you from now on?”

Bull pulled the brown paper from his bag with a smile. “It’s just some ram meat, figured you must…”

“Cooked?!” Dorian asked, the slits of his pupils slimming to pinpoints as he stared at the package.

“No, I figured since you always had the fire going you could-...” Before he could finish Dorian was springing up, snatching the parcel from his fingers, ripping away the paper, before taking a bite straight from the wedge of raw meat.

He hummed his approval, before ripping another hunk of the meat off with his teeth.

“That’s slightly disconcerting.” Bull admitted.

Dorian turned to him, only after swallowing another bite and argued, “Having meat rare is all the rage in Tevinter.”

“Yeah, but they at least pretend to cook it, and serve it with hot sauce and tiny vegetables.”

“In case you hadn’t noticed I’m rather lacking in sauce and tiny vegetables.”

“I think I’ve got some sauce if you-…” It had been a joke, but Dorian’s pupils narrowed again as he stared at Bull’s bag. “You want the sauce?” He nodded enthusiastically.

When Bull handed it over, something he kept with him at all times after coming south since most of the food was so bland, Dorian’s eyes lit up and he applied a liberal amount before ripping off another chunk. If his last sound had been a hum, this one was damn near orgasmic, his eyes fluttering shut for a moment.

“So, you going to tell me what you are?”

“Oh I see, this is just another bribe?” Dorian questioned, ripping away half of the remaining meat, Bull found he was just kind of happy the naga- snake thing- Dorian didn’t unhinge his jaw to eat.

“It’s yours either way, I don’t want it back now.” Bull joked, but Dorian’s face remained straight, as he curled into his tail once again and rested his head against the black scales. “I feel like it’s kind of my fault you’re going hungry.”

“It’s entirely your fault.” Dorian stated.

 “Yeah… You want to answer anyway, because I assume by ‘careful breeding’, you didn’t mean Vints are fucking snakes now?”

Dorian considered carefully for a moment, before turning to the Bull and stating, “No, I’m sorry.”

“That’s fine.” Bull encouraged. “Would you tell me why you’re alone in a cave in the middle of Ferelden?”

Dorian sighed before placing the final bit of meat in his mouth. “I told you, my living arrangements were no longer agreeable. And I can hardly live out in the open.”

“A family thing, or a ‘crazy village with pitchforks’ thing? Bull offered.

“What are _you_ doing in a cave in the middle of Ferelden? I thought your people were in the north.” Dorian asked instead of answering. Obviously not one for answering today.

“Most of them, yeah, but I’ve got a mission that brought me south.”

“A mission, that sounds exciting.” Dorian smiled, resting his chin against his scales. “What do you do Bull?”

“What do I do?”

“You are of the Qun, right? You have the accent. What is you role?”

“That’s classified.”

“Ah, so you’re a spy?” Dorian asked and Bull couldn’t stop the grin that spread over his lips. “You’re nothing like the dashingly handsome spies in Tevinter novels.”

“You don’t think I’m dashingly handsome?” Bull joked, and Dorian raised an eyebrow.

“I simply said you’re not like that spies in the books.” A blush was creeping onto Dorian’s caramel skin and damn, Bull couldn’t grin any wider without fear of splitting his cheeks. “Your friends, two elves and a human, I assume they’re not of the Qun?”

“Nah, I’m a merc as well as a spy, there’s two more humans and a dwarf.”

“Mercenaries? Who would captain such a diverse group?”

“I’m in charge of the band of misfits. The Bull’s Chargers.” Bull stated.

“So you’re the Bull and they’re… Maker that’s horrendous.” Dorian laughed.

“Hey, it gets the nobles paying, and the conquests rolling in.”

“Tell me about them.” Dorian demanded.

“My conquests?” Bull asked with a grin that caused Dorian to roll his eyes, the red still tinting his cheeks. “The boys are… something. Dalish the blonde elf, she’s a… an archer, left her clan to ‘travel’.” Dorian raised a brow but didn’t comment, he was a mage, or something like it, he’d no doubt felt the magical presence just as she’d felt his.

“The other elf, Skinner, should be doing life when she didn’t take kindly to humans in her alienage. Grim doesn’t talk much, pretty sure he’s a prince, or a chieftain or something. Stitches was a medic in the war, good fighter too. Rocky, our dwarf, he was kicked out of Orzammar, you want something knocked down, he’s got the explosives for it. Last of all Krem, he’s my second, a Vint too.”

“Krem is the human who was with you? He didn’t seem particularly fond of me.”

“I don’t think anyone was at the time. Tevinter doesn’t do any good for a fear of snakes.”

“I wouldn’t know.” Dorian sighed.

“You lived in Tevinter though?” Bull asked, surely he didn’t accidentally have the accent.

“Yes, I was born there, but I couldn’t exactly go developing a fear of snakes.” Dorian answered as he waved his hand at the fire, the dwindling flames growing larger. Bull didn’t think he’d ever seen a mage handle magic quite so easily, as if it was no effort at all, and Bull wondered what Dorian could do if he was given a staff.

“Did a Vint teach you your magic?”

 “Yes, a Tevinter taught me. My…” Dorian smiled, a small thing that disappeared quickly as he looked up at Bull through his lashes for a moment, before continuing. “My father taught me when I was young.”

“Is he like you?”

“He… No. He’s a mage, but he’s not…” Dorian stroked a hand over his black scales. “But he’s not like this.”

“Your mother?”

“No.” He answered quietly. “I’ve said too much. You should leave.”

“If that’s what you want.” Bull hummed and reached into his bag, pulling out a book, magical theory, Dalish had asked him to sell it after she’d picked it off a rebel mage and read it front to back at least twice. After all who would expect a Qunari with a great-axe as an apostate, but the store owner had only offered him a few silver. He’d give her the money. He placed the book on the ground with an old blanket he’d dug out, and walked away from the cave, there were a few more days.

-

The boys had skipped town again, so the next day Bull arrived with more raw meat, druffalo this time, it had been marinating in spices all night, and he knew if Dorian had a palate like Krem he was going to appreciate it.

He could remember picking up Krem in that shitty tavern on the Nevarra/Tevinter border; he’d lost an eye and had to run from the scene, but he’d thought afterwards that he didn’t need some kid that was a liability, he needed trained mercs to join whatever the fuck his break off Bleeders were going to be called. But the kid could hold himself in a fight.

Skinner had tried to remove his head from his shoulders, actually managed to put a knife in Krem. She was like a viscous house cat, if the house cat was a mountain lion. She was cute and all, but she could do damage, and it took her a while to settle down and make herself at home.

Rocky had run into them head first, hadn’t stopped running since he’d blown up half of Orzammar (Rocky tended to exaggerate, blew up a little bit more every time he told the story anew.) Grim… He’d just appeared, Bull couldn’t remember actually asking him to stay.

Stitches was the only one who’d actually been sought out, not just thrown into the fray, but he’d never been meant for a dingy hut healing the many, he needed a good fight and Bull could see it.  Dalish had asked to join as a back-up archer, a way to see the world outside of her clan. Bull had said he’d have to see what she could do and then she’d fired a damn icicle from her ‘bow’. It had all been mage free up to then, but damn could one come in handy.

Sure there had been others, they’d come and gone, found better jobs or got what they needed, and there were other Chargers out there, doing jobs and reporting back, but these were the guys who were still next to Bull.

Couldn’t wait to tell the story about the half-snake that had tried to poison him when they first met.

Bull had barely rounded the corner when he was set upon by Dorian. “This book! Where did you find this book?!”

He brandished in his hands the magic theory book Bull had left behind the day before, the blanket draped over his otherwise naked shoulders, and Bull couldn’t hold back the little smile. Getting him to join would be easy. “Dalish had it.”

“Dalish has remarkable taste in books!” He exclaimed, grinning wide, the first time Bull had seen a true smile on his face. “I knew the man who wrote this.”

“Yeah? A Tevinter right, I can remember Krem turning his nose up at it.”

“Yes. He was my mentor; I can’t believe you had this in your possession.”

“Mentor?” Bull asked as he followed Dorian to the back of the cave, the fire burning as always.

“He… I’m not certain I should tell you this.”

“I can’t even remember the guy’s name, wouldn’t know where to find him if I did.”

“I suppose… He was my tutor, when my father became too busy he had to send me away for study, obviously a college was not feasible with my… Condition. Alexius, he was, shall we say an ally, of my fathers? He was trustworthy, or at least more trustworthy than others, and looking for one gifted student whom he could mentor. He was sworn to secrecy of course, they couldn’t have word spreading that house Pavus had… I’ve said far too much.”

“It’s okay. You can tell me.” Dorian only sighed.

“I- I studied under him, I gained my first friend in his son, his wife knitted this absolutely hideous sweater, Felix got one too, just wanted to do something motherly, but she couldn’t knit for shit.” Dorian laughed. “But she enchanted it with a heating rune, so even when it became cold in the winter nights I’d stay warm. Felix would drag me out at night and we’d stick to the shadows, Maker he got us into so much trouble. The last time I saw Felix he… Well, I’m not entirely certain if he’s still alive. They just- they didn’t seem to care, unlike…”

“Your parents didn’t accept this?”

“Bull, you’ve… You’ve been kind to me, and I don’t understand why.”

“You seemed like you needed some help, Krem’ll tell you I’m a big softy, I pick up strays. Which reminds me.” Bull pulled the meat from his bag his heart fluttering when Dorian smiled down at the package. “I added a bit of spice.”

The smile slowly disappeared. “You shouldn’t trust me.”

“You haven’t given me any reason to believe that.”

“Bull… I’m what happens when you make deals with demons.”

Bull pulled back. Fuck. Snakes? Sure thing. Vints? He could handle them. Weird hybrid? Why not. Demons? Fuck that.

Bull was standing before he made the conscious decision to. Dorian sighed, placing the meat on his tail and opening the paper slowly. “You should leave. It was nice meeting you the Iron Bull.”

He turned and left the cave, his mind buzzing, one thought over and over.

_Had he been about to ask an abomination to join the Chargers?_


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All aboard the pain train, woo woo.

He gave Dalish two gold for the book, way more than it was worth, but she used the extra coin to buy a round for the boys so he wasn’t one to complain. It was going to be a quiet evening in the tavern. He’d finally received a reply from his superiors in Par Vollen, he had new orders, a job for the Chargers and ‘the Iron Bull’, and so their stay had been shortened by a couple of days, which meant one day of Dorian left. One day to figure it all out.

That shouldn’t have stung the way it did.

“The Iron Bull?” He knew the voice vaguely, and turned to see a small group, led by the mayor, all pissed as hell. Shit, he should have been paying better attention.

“Can I help?”

“We paid you to take care of the little problem plaguing the village.” He stated, nose crinkling.

“You did, and we took care of it.”

“Then how come one of my drufallos just went missing?!” The farmer demanded. “Thursday night, just like clockwork, didn’t even wait for proper night this time. Left a straight line out of the farm.”

“You sure it’s the same thing?” Krem asked, because Bull wasn’t. Bull was silently cursing everything he stood for, they’d had a deal, but Dorian wasn’t quite human, he’d had a taste, and Bull had left the damn sauce.

“Yes.” The mayor answered. “And since you and your Chargers have apparently dealt with this threat, I’m sure you’ll be able to find its hideout again. Deal with it properly, or three hours from now we’re going to follow the path ourselves, and demand repayment. Alberic and Theron will go with you and make sure you don’t run.”

“Alright. Boys, it seems we’re heading out.” Bull growled.

-

Bull was half glad Alberic and Theron had been left with them, the way Krem was glaring daggers into him screamed ‘if we were alone, I’d kill you’. Krem was his second for a reason; of course he’d spotted Bull’s frequent walks in the woods. He’d put it together the second he’d asked if it was the same creature. His eyes said he didn’t understand, but he was part way there.

They were ready in half an hour, leaving Rocky and Skinner behind for the more sober men the mayor had forced upon them. Skinner would have been useful.

It was another half hour before they were in the forest proper and searching, they’d looked at the field where the druffalo had been taken and followed the thick marking on the ground from there. Eventually it looped around to the beaten path. Bull was beginning to learn the signs and make his way there without using the tracks Dorian had left. Sure enough when they were nearing the cave, the tracks veered off, and he put up his hand to still the company as expected, inspecting the marks more closely.

Footsteps. There were footsteps, too small to be his, a human?

Someone else had been here.

Bull knelt and ran his fingers over the tracks, Dalish knelt beside him staring at the disturbed earth.

“Three.” She stated. “Brushed away by something big, trying to cover their tracks, not very well though.”

“Three what?” Alberic or Theron asked, void if Bull knew which was which.

Bull turned to the men and cocked a brow. In his peripheral he could see Krem shake his head slowly, his lips a tight line in a way that said, ‘you’re a fucking moron, but I’ll trust you’. When he turned to Dalish she only gripped her ‘bow’ slightly tighter. Grim and Stitches would catch on.

“Have you ever been this far out in the woods before?” Krem asked.

“Not since-”

The man hit the floor, as Dalish dropped her fingers from her head. The other man was preparing to shout, to panic when Bull turned to look at him, standing to his full height. Stitches smacked the man in the back of the head with the hilt of sword before he could as much as stutter; the crack so loud Bull worried the man might have a concussion. When the man Dalish had downed began to groan Grim gave him a swift boot to the face that shut him up.

“So chief,” Krem began. “Care to explain what the fuck is going on?!”

“We need to find Dorian.” He answered as he headed down the track towards the cave.

“Dorian? By Dorian do you mean the fucking snake thing?! The snake thing that tried to kill us, that you said you’d dealt with, but you’ve been sneaking off to see?”

“Yeah.” Bull answered. “That snake thing.”

“Great, fantastic. I always wanted to risk prison by beating up two bystanders for a fucking _snake_!”

Grim grunted and Krem rounded on him, “Don’t take his side.” Grim simply shrugged his shoulders.

Dalish was the voice of reason. “How about we ask why chief was with him?”

They all turned to him, waiting for an answer as he came to a stop. “Well shit, to begin with it was because I felt bad. Then we got chatting, and he was a good guy, just hungry and lonely as shit. Until he said he might be a demon.”

“You really pick ‘em sir.” Stitches muttered loud enough for Bull to definitely hear.

Bull turned away, moving towards the cave, he immediately knew something was wrong, there was no fire glow cast against the far wall. Still he entered just to be sure, a pile of books sat in a lopsided pile, a blanket beneath it and a raw druffalo steak sitting in the centre of the room a note written on the brown paper in flowing cursive.

_Sorry._

“Shit.”

“He took off?” Krem asked.

“No.” Bull answered. “The blanket’s got no reason being underneath, he was making that into a pack, he was going to take it but never got the chance, the meat was dropped. Either someone took him, or he’s running.”

“Who would take a naga?” Dalish asked.

“Whoever he was hiding from.” Bull answered.

“So what do we do?” Stitches asked.

“Follow the tracks.” Bull answered.

“And when the village realises we didn’t come back and head out on a man hunt?” Krem questioned.

“We follow the tracks.”

Krem sighed but stepped out of the cave none the less, following the footprints in the dirt. Bull couldn’t place what part of him it was that grabbed the blanket from beneath the pile, and Alexius’ book, stuffing them into his pack; he knew they weren’t for him.

They’d been walking a good twenty minutes in silence when Stitches asked, “What makes this thing worth saving?”

“That ‘thing’ has a name.”

“What makes precious Dorian worth it?” Krem asked.

Instead of answering Bull asked, “You ever heard of Alexius or Pavus? Noble houses in Tevinter.”

Krem and Dalish shared a glance, Stitches asking, “Pavus? Dorian Pavus?”

“Yeah, something I should know?”

“Chief.” Krem smiled as he continued. “Think we might just know who’s taken your snake.”

-

“Some guys offered us a job but we turned them down.” Krem explained as they trekked towards the next town, the skies opening not long before they arrived, it was a storm no doubt. “Said they were looking for a Dorian Pavus, they’d give us the rest of the details on contract of employment, it was all super hush-hush.”

“They did say he’d been hiding in the area.” Stitches continued. “Said he was a Magister’s property too, run away, the Magister was willing to pay anything for him alive. They promised us he wasn’t a slave when we initially turned him down.”

“Far as I can tell most of that’s a lie.” Bull muttered. “So where we headed?”

“They were staying at the tavern.” Dalish answered. “I doubt they’d be able to smuggle him in there though.”

“First stop tavern.”

-

The barkeep grinned when he saw Krem enter. “Chargers, back again so soon?”

“We’re looking for something.” Krem explained. “We spoke with a couple of men in one of your back rooms, a couple of hired hands.”

“I think I recall who you mean, they paid their tab and left this afternoon.”

“Any idea where they were heading?” Bull asked.

“Only to get a carriage, beyond that I have no idea where their journey would take them.”

Bull didn’t wait for the rest of the conversation, he’d seen the place on the way into town, by now they could have been well on their way to Denerim. When he finally managed to coax an angry horse master out of his home, he was told just as much, that the men had stated they were to finish business, pick up their cargo and then head to a port city.

“Thanks.”

“Can I ask why? If you plan on stealing whatever they have I’ll have to report you.” The man grumbled, he was a thick-set guy, moustache taking up half of his face.

“You can’t steal people.” Bull growled.

“People?! Maker if I’d known…”

“You didn’t, don’t beat yourself up about it.” Even if he had, Bull doubted he would have considered Dorian worth saving.

The Chargers emerged from the tavern and Bull looked to the horse master. “Got 5 horses?”

“I’ve got 4.”

“Great, Krem, Dalish, Stitches you’re with me. Grim go back and tell…” Bull backtracked quickly. “Stitches go back and tell Skinner and Rocky to pack up and leave the village, whatever happens meet on the Storm Coast, it’s our next job.”

“Sure thing sir.”

“One of them’s getting on a bit.” The horse master admitted, “Not as fast as the others.”

Bull growled, low in his chest. “Grim, go with Stitches, avoid the clear line and get to the town unseen. You all know the rest. Chargers?”

He received a chorus of, “Horns up!”

-

It took the horse master long enough to ready the steeds that Bull should have set off running, at least whilst he took his time the man described to them exactly what they were searching for. A carriage (the only one he owned) with two steeds (both fast, but not with a carriage strapped to their backs.) If they rode hard and fast they might even pass them on the way (but he doubted it.)

Bull passed the man some gold and took off before he could hear anymore unnecessary contradictions. The night had settled well in, and Bull had no doubt that the village had raised their pitchforks by now, only making him slightly glad Dorian was out of the way, not that the idea of him being kidnapped made him feel any more at ease.

The ride was slower than Bull had hoped, the rain bringing them to a trot. They were an hour away from town when Krem shouted over the wind. “Chief, I think we should stop.”

“We can’t we have to get to Denerim.” But he could no longer hear the hooves over the sound of the rain, he pulled back on the reins, the horse stopping and turning, so he could look at Krem and Dalish, both of them hair sticking to their head, soaked to the bone. Krem trotted forward.

“I should have just said it, I should have asked him to come with us, and then figured it out later, I knew he wasn’t a fucking demon, what kind of demon…”

Krem’s hand on his shoulder made him pause, sadness in his eyes. “Chief, you can’t win all of them.”

“He was hiding from these guys in a fucking cave Krem.”

“I agree with Krem. “ Dalish sighed. “There’s no way we’d find them now, the rain will have washed away any tracks, and they’ve got a head start where ever they went.”

“We can head back towards the village and find the boys. We’ll get there faster on horse.” Krem suggested.

Bull nodded. He should have learnt by now that not everyone could be saved, he’d just hoped that for once, maybe…


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So uni starts again tomorrow for me, so sorry if the posting slows down a little bit, I'm still going to aim for daily at the same time.
> 
> [ Also I drew some happier snekbaby](http://vashothbutt.tumblr.com/post/138421391034/happy-snakebab-even-messier-nagadorian-fic)

They managed to round back and found the boys slinking down the path to the village, bags in hand, which they loaded onto the horses, and made a swift exit from the area. It had been a long time since a job had gone that badly, Bull had to admit, it was the first time it was his fault.

As they travelled they heard whispers about the upstart organisation that was trying to close the breach in the sky, and as the rest of them made it to the Storm coast, Krem and Stitches broke off to Haven, where the forces were camping out. They were honestly the least intimidating of the group and Krem he could talk a good game.

A few weeks later they joined the Inquisition, it was what his superiors instructed, and as a bonus, Krem had suggested the idea in the first place so everyone was on board.  They’d met the elf, Vhen Lavellan, on the Storm Coast as instructed, and had been accepted easily, even after Bull had confessed to being Ben-Hassrath. Probably helped their cause that they’d taken down a group of ‘Vints as they were found.

He should have probably taken longer away from work, shouldn’t have thrown himself back in with something so big, the nights he still speant looking at the roof of the tent wondering what he could have done differently, how he could have known, should have told him that. Losing always messed him up for a while. Especially when the loss was _someone._

The Chargers offered their services, but Bull saw the opportunity as what it was, a chance to gather information, so he’d offered himself personally to fight beside the inquisitor. His first official mission as a member of the Inquisition was in the Hinterlands, a simple ‘keep the boss safe’ deal, and with Cassandra and Varric that wasn’t a hard task, they bickered, but they fought well together, and they hacked their way through Templars and mages alike with ease. The recruited a Warden to the cause so the trip wasn’t wasted. Even if the Warden was a liar, Bull couldn’t put his finger on the lie, but it was there.

His second mission was also in the Hinterlands, and he was honestly starting to hate the place a little, there was so much of it, everything outside of the villages but the sheep wanted you dead, and he bet if he looked at one of them funny, they’d probably have a go. It had taken the brunt of the mage/Templar war. And their destination was too close to that damn village for comfort.

They were meeting with the leader of the mage rebellion, Fiona, a name he’d send back home. He hadn’t sent anything useful in a while, had written a bunch of letters about nagas and burnt every last one.

They weren’t expected, not a good sign since Cassandra and the boss had been personally invited by the rebel, an invitation Lavellan wasn’t quick to accept, but had done if only so she could rule the mages out. He was on edge from the moment they stepped foot into the village. When Fiona made out like she had no memory of the invitation Bull was ready for a fight, because either she was telling the truth, or she was a damn good liar, and either one spelt trouble.

And then she had to go and say it. “The free mages have already pledged themselves to the service of the Tevinter Imperium.”

Nothing good ever came of that shit.

“So who’s in charge?” Lavellan asked.

The Magister had his timing spot on, Bull would give him that, no sooner had Lavellan spoken the words the Magister was entering the inn. Bull was watching his swagger, watching the young man who was obviously his son, hair shorn short, light on foot, stooped ever so slightly, pale, something wrong there, but neither of them showed it.

Bull had been too busy observing, blocking out the unnecessary introductions, Lavellan was never going to side with the mages now they’d pulled this trick, when Fiona said three words that snapped Bull out of his trance as if he’d been shocked.

“… Magister Gereon Alexius.”

Well shit. Which meant the sick kid was… Well there wasn’t really a word strong enough to cover the heaping pile of vashedan this was rapidly becoming.

Dorian had made this guy sound like a saint, and here he was taking control of practically an army of rebel mages, tipping his chair back and crossing his arms as he looked at Lavellan down his nose like some story book villain.

As if Bull could have been wrong, he introduced his son as Felix, just to seal the deal. As Felix turned away to send for a scribe as his father instructed he made sure to lock eyes, and in that moment there was something, something that made Felix’s movement stutter as he watched the Bull. Probably just hadn’t seen many Qunaris in Tevinter, surely he couldn’t have spoken with Dorian since…

The negotiation continued until Felix returned, his walking off, obviously so, and Bull was ready to jump out and catch him, but the boss got there first.

“I’m so sorry! Please forgive my clumsiness, my lady.” Felix requested his tone much milder than his fathers.

Alexius changed in an instant, the high and mighty act quivering as he saw to his son. As the Alexius’s left, Felix spared a glance back, meeting the Bull’s gaze for a moment.

“What was that about?” Varric asked, and the boss turned holding out a piece of paper.

“Come to the Chantry.” She read aloud.

“Did the Magister’s son give you that?” Cassandra asked. “Why would he help you?”

“He wouldn’t.” Lavellan answered. “It’s obviously a trap.”

Bull wanted to scream, to rip the piece of paper from her and find the secret that must be there. He was about damn ready to head to the chantry alone. “Maybe we should check it out?”

“Why? You’re the one that was saying how much you didn’t trust the place all the way down.” Lavellan joked, and she was right. There was something not right, from the moment they’d stepped close to that fucked up time rift everything had been wrong. If Felix had known why couldn’t he have just said something? One word could have done it, not this meet at the Chantry bullshit.

Bull would just have to be content with the belief that maybe Dorian was safe, maybe he was with his mentor after all.

Maybe Bull was just trying to ease a conscience that still retained the guilt…

Maybe he just wasn’t meant to win this one…

 

They sided with the Templars.

-

Bull was a little pissed he wasn’t chosen for the mission at Therinfall Redoubt, but the boss had done the smart thing taking Cass and Ma’am for negotiations, it’s just that missions were the only thing keeping his mind off other stuff. But shit after he’d heard that the place was riddled with demons he was pretty glad he’d been left behind, nothing good came of demon shite.

They succeeded though, got the Templars to join the inquisition, a choice Bull had to question slightly since the boss was an apostate. But everything worked out, a lot smoother than he’d been expecting considering they were going to fix a demon spitting tear in the sky.

The boss took a small group to the Temple, and Bull wasn’t a apart of it but he sure heard the stories, if Varric was present there would always be stories, slightly embellished stories, but he could pick out the useful bits, could send them back to Par Vollen without mentioning the five, _no six_ ten foot tall demons.

The celebrations seemed too soon, they were still a fledgling organisation, things never went so easily, not when magic and demons and politics were involved.

Sometimes he hated being right.

It had been luck that he looked out over the mountains, torches faint but drawing closer, no small number of people marching towards Haven, just before the bell began to ring.

Lavellan ran past, Cassandra on her tail, and barely glanced in their direction before she shouted, “Bull, Varric, with us!”

He hefted up his axe, glad he’d kept it near, and Varric always had that damn crossbow with him. When they arrived at the gates Cullen was already giving news on the approaching forces. “One watchguard reporting. It’s a massive force, the bulk of it haven’t made it over the mountain top yet.”

“Under what banner?” Josephine asked, always the diplomat, like given the right enemy she’d be able to talk them into retreating. He wouldn’t put it past her.

“None.”

“None?” Josephine asked, neither of them paying attention to the inquisitor, slowly moving towards the gate, rattling on its hinges as it was repeatedly hit with what the Iron Bull could only assume were spells.

The mages.

And then a voice called through the gate, “If someone could open this I’d appreciate it!” His hairs stood on end, the voice sending a chill straight through him, and before anyone could give an instruction Bull was shouting, “Open them!”

Cullen gave him a quick glance, and in that second he questioned every single motive the Bull could possibly have. But Vhen was stepping forward forcing the guards to open the gates and Cullen was racing after her, even if they didn’t trust a Qunari, they certainly trusted their Inquisitor and Commander.

“State your intentions.” Cullen commanded as Bull pushed through the guards that had become spectators to the exchange.

“I’m here to warn you. Fashionably late, I’m afraid.” Bull saw the bodies littering the floor before he saw _him_. It had to be. “My name is-… The Iron Bull?!”

“You can’t be-” Cullen began to argue, but he was pushed aside, bringing the mage into view. He looked different, hair shorter, shaved close at the sides whereas before it had been growing out, his moustache was neat despite the fact he’d evidently just taken down several mages, and he wore robes, obviously Tevinter, draped down on his tail, as if he’d simply cut away the bottom.

Bull didn’t have much time to ponder it though, Dorian coiled and leapt at the Bull, a strange sense of déjà vu washing over him, wasn’t this how they met? Instead of attacking though, Dorian threw his arms around him and Bull could only grip him tightly.

“You know this…” Vhen asked, her question trailing off as Bull watched her look over Dorian, taking him in fully, tail and all. Dorian released his grip and Bull placed him on the ground so that his tail could take his weight.

“My apologies.” Dorian began turning to the Inquisitor. “My name is Dorian Pavus, and I bring grave news from Redcliffe. An army of rebel mages follows close behind me. They are under the command of the Venatori, and in service to something that calls itself the ‘Elder One’. They were already marching on Haven, I risked my life to get here first.”

“Cullen! Give me a plan! Anything!” Vhen demanded.

Bull barely had time to smile at Dorian before he was rushing away to help the boss. But damn, that smile stayed for a while.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter is short
> 
> I feel like I haven't said thank you enough, so a massive thank you to everyone leaving kudos and comments, they really keep me going.
> 
> NOTE chapter production may slow down a little since this week is the Adoribull kink meme fill week and I'm writing several different fills. Also uni.

Then the dragon had come, the fucking demon variety. Everything had gone to shit faster than anyone could have expected. They fought their way back through the town they were trying to save, grabbing whoever they could, but as they pushed on everyone knew the truth of the matter. Haven couldn’t be saved.

After the boss had told them to run, the first thing he did was find his boys; they’d stuck together, taking down a few of the bastards, but taking no major injuries. What more could he ask for?

The entire town moved, or what was left of it, and he looked for Dorian the entire journey. For someone part snake he was pretty hard to find. It wasn’t until they’d settled into a camp for the night, snow coming down too heavy for a town that had nothing left, that he managed to find Dorian. Probably the last place he would have expected him to be was the healer’s tent, especially when it appeared he wasn’t being treated.

He sat next to the Chancellor, Roderick, with his back towards the entrance, and Bull could just and so make out his hands clasped and resting on his tail, curled underneath him as a cushion. He pulled the blanket from his pack quietly, placing it slowly over Dorian’s shoulders, even then he startled, turning quickly, and only settling when he’d watched Bull for a moment.

“You forgot something.” Bull stated. Dorian smiled slightly and pulled the blanket closer over his shoulders. At least he had clothing now, even if it didn’t do a very good job of covering even half of him. “You in the mood for explaining anything?”

“This man won’t last the night.”

Bull looked down at the chancellor, he probably wasn’t wrong. “I mean about you.”

“Fancy being more specific then?”

“Tell me from the beginning, when did you end up like this?”

“A while ago.” Dorian stated, and when Bull was ready to prompt him for a proper answer he continued. “I told you, I’m what happens when you make deals with demons.”

“So what, your blood magic went wrong and you ended up like this?”

Dorian smiled, but there was no joy behind it. “It wasn’t my deal. Dorian Pavus is dead as far as the Imperium is concerned.”

“Why do I feel like you’re doing the opposite of explaining?” Bull accused.

“Fine, there was a blood ritual, my father attempted to… Let’s skip the details and say it was a rather shit thing to do. It didn’t work out, I died, _Dorian_ died. Then he realised what he’d done, instead of fixing his son, he’d broken him in a way that couldn’t be easily remedied. For the record, I detest blood magic.”

“Still not too sure where you come into the equation.”

“He decided an imperfect heir was better than a dead one, and made a deal. I imagine I must have been damn near perfect before all this for the demon to decide it had to make me half snake to fit the description. “

“So this is all because your father fucked you over?”

“I suppose that’s one way of putting it. When I became… _this,_ and after they’d searched for another solution, they decided it better if they hid me away and swiftly informed every one of my demise. He tried to keep me happy by sending me to Alexius for mentoring.” Dorian laughed bitterly. “I’d almost forgotten about him.”

“Alexius was in Redcliffe?” Bull asked.

“Yes… So it _was_ you, Felix told me a Qunari had come along, a Qunari with wide horns who’d held his gaze for longer than socially acceptable. I’d hoped you would realise and come to the chantry.”

“The boss thought it was a trap, I wanted to come and find out.” Dorian merely hummed, so Bull continued. “So explain to me what happened at the cave. I thought we had a deal?”

“We did, and I stuck to it.”

“What about the druffalo?”

“You think I went back on it?! Do you really think I’d be able to drag a druffalo most of the way to Redcliffe?” Dorian growled, eyes narrowed. “You know about the wyvern, yes?”

“Wyvern?”

“I wasn’t the only thing living in those trees.” Dorian answered.

“Well, shit.”

“It certainly was a shit, dragged all of its half-eaten carcasses outside my cave. I never did find where it lived, but I managed to hit it with a spell a couple of times.”

“So what then, you just decided to get up and leave?”

“Not quite. Apparently my father had hired some men to look for me, and they were asking questions as they moved from town to town, they visited Redcliffe and were stupid enough to ask Felix. After that he was listening for anything about me, he’s one of the few people in Tevinter who knows I still live.

“Then your men travelled to Redcliffe the day after our first encounter, and they were more than open with information about the snake-thing they’d encountered. Did you realise you were being followed that final day?”

“Followed? I was a little distracted.” Bull admitted, but shit he was slipping, had been for a while now, after all of this was over he’d have to go back to Par Vollen, they’d probably reassign him, it was what he needed.

Dorian rolled his eyes. “Lucky for you it was Felix, he waited to see where you came from and followed your footprints, covered them all up with magic too. Alexius was probably going out of his mind, Felix had travelled to the village when the hired men left, and managed to catch your Chargers and the men speaking about a job offer, one to find me, which thankfully they turned down otherwise I wouldn’t have been so lucky.”

“So Felix got you out of the way?”

“Felix ran into the cave and essentially collapsed onto me, but yes.”

“Why didn’t Felix come with you to Haven?”

“He…” Dorian’s gaze returned to his hands, “I’m not sure where he went, he disappeared, just as the Venatori planned to attack. They killed Alexius, but Felix… I don’t know. I can only assume they found out he was trying to aid the Inquisition, and me. They likely killed him. I know he was on borrowed time anyway, but it still doesn’t make it any easier.”

“I’m sorry. Those bastards are going to pay.”

“Yes.” Dorian stated. “They are.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Change of POV for a little while
> 
> Sorry for the lack of chapters I've been writing a fill a day for the Adoribull kink meme fill week instead of sleeping...
> 
> Thank you for 150 kudos, I can't believe it!

When the camp had begun moving Bull had immediately gone to his Chargers, and Dorian had hung at the back of the crowd of people, he didn’t have to worry about the looks if he was at the back.

Maker had there been looks. He should have been used to it by now, trying to avoid gazes and experiencing the glares, but it was hard to avoid contact when he’d knocked on the front door and may as well have set off a flare for all of the attention he gained. He knew he was starting to fall behind; the distance he’d tried to keep was becoming his downfall. He’d never been somewhere so bitterly cold, and his tail was always pressed to the snow. Maker he was tired.

Of all the people to approach him first, he certainly hadn’t expected it to be the Bull’s Tevinter second in command; the exchange however was exactly what he had anticipated. The Soporatus was quiet for a long while as he walked alongside Dorian, eyes trained ahead.

“Krem I assume?” Dorian finally asked, in hope that it might break the uncomfortably awkward silence.

He pulled back slightly at the sound of Dorian’s voice, obviously not what he’d been expecting. “Cremisius Aclassi to you.”

“Very well Cremisius. I believe you and I got off on the wrong… foot.” He stated awkwardly, sparing a glance towards his tail. “I’d like to try and remedy that?”

“You’re an Altus, as well as part snake?”

“I- Yes I was. But aren’t all Altus at least part snake, the Magisterium is a pit of vipers after all?” Dorian joked, an attempt to lighten the tension which apparently did the opposite of working.

“Listen, Altus. Things will work out best if you just stay as far away from me as possible. I’ll accept there’s something weird going on between you and the chief, but I won’t pretend to like it. The only thing I hate more than snakes are Alti.”

“I… I understand.” Dorian agreed, eyes trained on the snow, a shiver running up his spine.

“Don’t do that.”

“Do what? Am I not allowed to speak either?” He asked but the bite wasn’t there, surely he just needed to rest.

“Don’t make me feel like I kicked a puppy.”

“That wasn’t my…” Dorian let out a slow breath that felt cold against his chapped lips. “Excuse me a moment.”

Cremisius’ steps slowed as Dorian did and he merely watched as Dorian led himself on the ground, his tail curling around him. “What are you doing?”

“I just… I feel that… I need a rest.” Dorian looked up at Krem and blinked slowly, when he opened his eyes again Krem was gone. The group was moving further away, everyone was leaving, he should…

“Hey Dorian!” He startled as something stroked over his scales, but no one ever touched his tail.

“Dorian?” He looked up, the Bull kneeling over him. “Dorian you need to relax.”

He did as instructed, and arms slipped around him, one behind his back and one beneath the top of his tail.

“Wrap your tail around me.” Dorian rested his head against the body, and weakly threw his tail around their waist. “There you go. Dalish grab the blankets from my pack.”

“Where do you want them?” It was soft and everywhere.

“Hey, stay with me big guy, they’ve found somewhere to stay. Tell me what circle you studied at.”

“All of them.” Dorian answered though he didn’t understand the relevance.

“All of them, huh?”

Dorian nodded slowly. “They kept on throwing me out. I was too good.”

“That so?”

“You know I’m not made to… _slither_ through snow like this. Uh, Maker, I hate that word, _snakes_ slither.”

“Hate to break it to you…”

“Yes I know, I just, I was brought up by humans, not snake people.”

Bull had chuckled and carried him into Skyhold, the place the Inquisition intended to stay. Dorian should have left before then, he knew he should have, things could only get worse from here on out. Bull had held on to him for a little while longer, until he was happy that Dorian was sufficiently warmed, and then he’d made Dorian promise he would visit the healer. Of course he’d lied.

The moment Bull was out of sight, helping with lifting and preparation, Dorian had snuck away. He needed somewhere hidden away; somewhere he wouldn’t have to worry. His initial hiding place was the cavern under the fortress, but he’d barely lasted a night before the blacksmith arrived with morning light and damn near tried to kill him for existing. Dorian had thought it best not to bite, he’d prefer it if the entirety of Skyhold didn’t go on a snake hunt.

After that he’d discovered the cellars, rows of empty racks, much to his disappointment, but it would do. He found a perfectly dry corner and wrapped himself in the blanket he still held in his possession, conjuring a small flame into his palms for the heat he needed. He could get used to it.

-

Almost a week after their arrival at Skyhold someone decided to grace the cellar with their presence. Taking small shallow breaths, Dorian remained perfectly still, listening to the clinking of bottles, but the visitor didn’t go any further than the first row of shelves. As soon as they left, extinguishing the torch behind them, Dorian relit them with a wave of his hand and quietly moved to the single stocked shelf.

He pulled out a bottle, studying it as he mused aloud, “Orlaisian red? Vintage 9:21. Don’t mind if I do.”

-

Visitors to the cellar came and left, usually taking a bottle with them, but there was one that came frequently, sometimes they took a bottle, sometimes they stood for a while and tapped their foot. If Dorian pressed his face against the floor he could make out the golden plimsolls beneath the rows.

He’d found that in the early hours the main fortress itself became almost deserted on most evenings, and there was a perfect gap between desertion and day break where even the kitchen was empty, and they wouldn’t notice if a bit of meat went missing.

It was roughly another fortnight later when he tried to sneak out of the cellar at the usual time and heard footsteps approaching. Kaffas, he hadn’t eaten the night before either, if he went too often no doubt the staff would realise something was off, and he was already taking more than enough wine for it to be considered suspicious.

He’d only just returned to his spot in the cellar when the footsteps descended. There was barely enough time for him to curl into his blanket, watching the floor to discern who was coming. Ah, plimsolls, but they weren’t alone this time.

“As you can see inquisitor…” Fasta vass, the brown boots were the inquisitor. “The wine supply has depleted considerably, and I’ve been checking it regularly, no matter what the kitchen staff believe, no animal has been stealing from the supplies. Unless that animal has impeccable taste in expensive wines.”

“Have you asked Vivienne?”

“Madame de Fer has denied all knowledge of the missing wine, and it’s true she has always requested access to the cellar. Even if it was Vivienne, it would not account for the missing food.”

“So someone’s stealing?”

“It appears so; I attempted to discover the culprit whilst you were in Crestwood but to no avail. I could check the cellar in the morning, have someone watch it the entire day and discover a bottle missing by evening. Nobody entered or left.”

“So, they’re still in here?” The room for a silent for a moment and Dorian had to curse silently as his stomach quietly rumbled.

“What was that?”

“Whoever’s still here.”

The feet were moving, growing closer, and Dorian could feel his teeth itching, could taste the venom on his tongue, the mana humming under his skin, but his body didn’t coil for an attack, he was prepared to run. As soon as he saw the hint of gold and blue he jumped down the next row, hearing the scream and violently crashing into a barrier hurriedly thrown up.

It was the inquisitor who rounded the corner; hand raised to maintain the barrier, Dorian took the opportunity, dispelling it quickly. He was almost to the steps when he heard the cry, and he didn’t dare look back. More the fool him. The body hit him with such force that he slammed into the ground, an arm wrapping around his neck.

“Vhen! I mean- Inquisitor, are you alright?” Are _they_ alright?! The need to breathe was slowly increasing and all Dorian could do was grasp whatever air his constricted airway would allow. “Maker Vhen let go.”

The inquisitor did as instructed and allowed Dorian to gasp, filling his lungs, but they still held him against the ground.

“Dorian, I believe?” Plimsolls asked.

He turned his head and looked the woman before him up and down, clad in gold and blue, he recognised her slightly, she had been at the gates.

“You told us about the mages?” The inquisitor asked still holding him down, and he wondered how a female elven mage could possibly be so strong.

“Yes, that was me.”

“You’ve been stealing the food and wine?” Plimsolls asked.

Dorian wasn’t so quick to answer that one. “I don’t mean to be a nuisance.”

Plimsolls looked to the Inquisitor and the elf finally climbed off him. “I’m Josephine Montilyet, one of the Inquisitors advisors.” Plimsolls smiled as she held out her hand. Dorian took it carefully, making sure that his claws didn’t touch her skin. “You are truly Dorian Pavus?”

He’d known when he introduced himself it had been a horrendous idea to use the name of a supposedly dead man. “Yes, I am.”

Josephine nodded as if that was all the explanation she required. The inquisitor was not so welcoming, her face still twisted in a scowl and her arms crossed over her chest. “Why are you living in the cellar?”

“I don’t mean to inconvenience anyone, but I was hoping to assist the inquisition. Things… Didn’t go exactly to plan.”

“Well master Pavus if you’d follow me I’m sure we can still arrange some form of lodgings for you.”


	8. Chapter 8

Kaffas, no one had called him master Pavus for quite some time, certainly no one had treated him the way Josephine did, as if he were some visiting Tevinter dignitary, which he imagined at some point he could have been.

“Any assistance you can offer the inquisition would be greatly appreciated.” She’d been explaining as she turned the key in the lock. The door swung open to reveal the small yet entirely functional room. A vanity in the corner, and Dorian could imagine his old self would have happily preened, but he was almost past the point of caring when he could imagine what he must look like.

Most importantly there was a bed, a double, a thick quilt lying over the top. Dorian pressed his palm into it and it sunk ever so slightly beneath the pressure. “I apologise for the size, I know it can’t possibly compare to what you’re used to.”

Dorian shook his head as he explained, voice soft, “I can barely remember the last time I got to sleep in a bed.”

“Oh, well if you need anything, do not hesitate to ask. The inquisitor would no doubt like to speak with you in the near future, but until then I bid you good night.”

Josephine placed the key on the vanity, and closed the door softly behind her, a quite click leaving Dorian alone in his room. His room, bare and devoid of belongings, the only items to his name the clothes on his back, and a blanket that smelt strongly of what he was assuming was the Iron Bull.

There was a fireplace at the end of the bed, a couple of logs in the hearth, and Dorian waved his hand, a pleasant orange glow filling the room, its warmth slowly flooding in. Dorian climbed onto the mattress, remembering how much easier it was when he could climb one leg at a time. He curled up, tail beneath him the pillow sandwiched between his cheek and scales, quilt covering his entire body. It was the easiest he’d slept in a long time.

-

There was a knock on his door midday, and Dorian had been sitting idly for a while, he’d had far less to occupy his time before. His stomach rumbled quietly and he put the thought out of mind for the time being as he answered the door.

The Bull smiled down at him. “Heard you stuck around.”

“I could hardly head out into the snow.”

“Sorry I didn’t come and visit sooner, as soon as we’d settled down a little the boss had a new mission for us. You going to join the team, I bet your magic would help out.”

“Perhaps that’s true, but no. I’ve barely fought in real combat before; I’d be no use in a fight.”

“Well that’s a heap of bullshit.” Bull argued. “You managed to take me down in one hit, no magic involved, and if you’re an Altus you know how to use that shit. Have you left this room?”

“Of course.” Dorian answered and it was no lie he’d only just received the room.

“Been to the library?”

“Library?!”

“Knew that would get your attention.”

“Where‘s the library?!”

“I’ll take you there myself…” Dorian’s eyes lit up, but Bull was bargaining. “ _If_ you join the Inquisition officially.”

Dorian had scowled and hissed, “I can find it myself without your assistance.”

Bull had shrugged his shoulders and turned from the room. “Think about it. You could have been great.”

-

Dorian had done exactly what he’d promised he would. After night had fallen and all occupants had either retired or headed to the Tavern Dorian snuck through the keep, first stop the kitchens, which he discovered had a convenient second entrance. Next he traversed the halls as silently as he could. When he entered the tower that appeared to perch almost directly above the kitchen he knew he’d found the library Bull had spoken of. A shame that he had to climb a flight of stairs but it was worth it.

Birds cawed overhead but nothing else resided in the tower. Or so he thought. Skimming through the aisles he stacked his arm full of books. Magical theory and fiction alike, anything that took his fancy.

“Curious.” Dorian spun quickly the books falling from his arms, the elf that stood before him somehow managed to block the exit from the shelves with his slim frame. Dorian coiled, fangs dripping with toxins. “I understand that blood magic is popular in the Imperium but I never imagined… You must be Dorian?”

“Oh for- Who told you?”

The elfs eyes widened ever so slightly. “Most of the Inner Circle are aware of your presence. You don’t carry a staff?”

“I don’t _own_ a staff. Now, who are you? What do you want?”

“My name is Solas, I came to see who was invading the library at this time of night.”

“I wish I could say it was a pleasure…”

Solas scowled at that, but continued on regardless. “Did you ever intend to tell the Inquisition?”

“Tell them what exactly? I’m sure there are many things I haven’t informed them of, my favourite literature, how I like my steak, which-…”

“I’m speaking of your demonic nature.” Dorian swallowed, resting a hand against the bookshelf before him. He’d always half expected to hear the truth, that perhaps he wasn’t Dorian Pavus, perhaps something had taken his form, his memories, or rather Dorian Pavus’ forms and memories, that perhaps this wasn’t Dorian’s body at all. “The fade wraps around you like it would hold a spirit. Everyone else may have accepted you easily, but some of us are aware of Dorian Pavus’ death.”

“I didn’t die, I hid. I had to.”

“That doesn’t explain the presence lingering over your shoulder.”

“Yes well, I shouldn’t have to explain myself to you.” Dorian hissed, gathering up the books he’d dropped and pushing past Solas, the books he’d already collected would have to do.

-

When he’d returned to his room, the fire in the hearth dying, but the room warm, he waved at the fire, fanning it, and curled under the covers with one of the books sat open, illuminated by the firelight. He was warm; he had an actual roof over his head, two blankets and a pile of books. So why was there a sinking feeling in the pit of stomach?

He knew the answer of course, that no matter what he had been, he was now this, and no comfort came from that, from knowing that he was something that was hunted, hated, and killed for simply being, when once his greatest issue had been what to wear to a formal gathering. At least he mused, at least for one of the first times in his life he was somewhat free.


End file.
